Let The Words Fall Out
by A-Star-Trekked-Sherlockian
Summary: Detective Inspector Lestrade has managed to find a witness for the latest case that Sherlock is working on. However, this one is a little bit different. She's mute. How will Sherlock deal with someone who can't answer his questions as quick as he would like? Or will John have to step in and sort it all out?


**A/N: Okay, so a very strange inspiration for this fanfic I must admit. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!**

**Let The Words Fall Out**

John drummed his fingers across the lid of his laptop. Vaguely he raised his eyebrow in the direction of his flatmate who was pouring a steaming chemical into a tube filled with sulfuric acid if he was to judge by an abandoned bottle. John watched him with interest for a while before his phone vibrated on the wooden side table. He picked up the phone and twirled it once in his hand so it was the right way up and unlocked the screen.

_We've got a witness for the case. - GL_

Lestrade was of course referring to the case in which 2 children had been murdered at the same time but in two different places. A task that seemed to be impossible yet somehow had been done. Both of the children had been found in bare basements, locked inside and had no signs of being physically abused before their deaths. The neighbours of the houses that the children had been contained in were only alerted when deafening screams had been heard.

However, the screams may have been heard with mere minutes between them but the locations were many miles apart. This is where the killer had fallen short. Outside of the first child's house an underground map had been found. Two rail stations had been circled and the timings had been highlighted underneath. Of course, the map would not have been seen, battered and scrunched in a bush, if it were not for Sherlock. John could not help but stare in awe as his flatmate rushed out of the basement, searching frantically for an item that nobody else was aware of. It did not take long before he had pulled out that leaflet from the foliage and presented it to the forensics team for analysis. He then returned to the house, a small smug smile across his face. The next thing that Sherlock was doing was demanding for anyone that may have seen somebody come in or out of the house so he could question them.

_Oh good. Sherlock will be pleased. - JW_

_Yes, but this witness is a bit different. - GL_

John frowned in confusion as he licked over his lower lip while thinking. Looking back up he saw that Sherlock was still carrying on with his experiment that was now fizzing and bubbling over his hands violently. John placed his phone of the arm of the chair before walking to the kitchen. He took an old tea towel from the rack and made his way over to his friend.

"Come here. That'll burn." He tutted quietly, beginning to rub the chemicals off Sherlock's hand before it had a chance to react. "Where are your gloves?"

"In the bathroom, I couldn't be bothered to get them." Shrugged Sherlock in disinterest. "Would you get off and stop fussing?" He grumbled loudly, trying to shake the doctor away. John had managed to clear up the mysterious substances from Sherlock's hand and went to the bathroom before tossing the gloves over.

"Put them on, and then I'll stop." John said sternly. Sherlock merely gave him a sideways glance, a loud sigh and a roll of his eyes before abiding to John's request. Satisfied that Sherlock was now safe he returned his chair and his phone.

_John? - GL_

_John are you still there? - GL_

_Sorry, Sherlock was doing experiments without any gloves again. Honestly it's like bringing up a 5-year-old sometimes. Anyway, what exactly did you mean by different? - JW_

_Ah, understood mate. And by different I mean that she doesn't speak. She's a mute. We're not sure whether it's by choice or whether it's medical yet because we're still searching for personal records. But I thought I should let you know before she's faced with Sherlock. We'll be coming to 221B. The station makes her feel very uncomfortable and she refuses to try to communicate with us at all down there.- GL_

John raised an eyebrow at his phone; an action that didn't go unnoticed by his flatmate. The one whom he was sure had not been watching him but had been focused entirely on his experiment. Apparently not.

"What's Lestrade just told you?" He asked, not taking his eyes off the newest test tube.

"There's a witness for the murder case you took up on Wednesday."

John typed out his reply to the Detective Inspector as he spoke.

_Alright, thanks for the heads up. When will you be bringing her around? - JW_

He wanted to wa-" John stopped short, looking up from his phone with a frown as he thumb hit the send button. "How did you know it was Lestrade that I was texting? I never told you."

"Of course it's Lestrade. No one else makes you pull that face when you're texting." Sherlock said, raising his tube up to the light before finally turning to face his friend. Thankfully the reaction of these new chemicals was not so extreme.

"What face?" He asked before thinking better of it and shaking his head. "You know what? I don't want to know." The phone buzzed.

_As soon as I can. Expect us soon. - GL_

"Then why did you ask?" Berated Sherlock quickly before John could continue. He craned over to look at the message but John picked it up before he could see and opened the message.

"Because... because..." John frowned, losing track as he was reading. Eventually he placed his phone back on the side table and gathered his train of thought, "Look, I need to talk to you about this witness."

"What could be different? I've questioned plenty of witnesses before. Willing ones and the not so willing as you know."

"Yes, I know." His flatmate replied with a tone of disapproving. "But this one _is _different. She's, well, she's a mute."

John watched Sherlock set the test tube into a rack with the others that he had discarded. He assumed that the they had not given off the correct reaction, or fumes or colouring or something. Whatever it was Sherlock now seemed uninterested in his experiment and so he removed his gloves before coming to a stand in the middle of the living room. He picked up his own phone that had been left on the cushion of the sofa and flicked his thumb over the screen. Scrolling down he searched his messages but to no avail as Lestrade had only been in contact with John.

"He didn't text me. Why not?" Sherlock frowned at his phone, looking up at John for just a moment before returning his expression to the screen. "What should the fact that she's mute matter anyway?"

"You do know what mute means, right? That's not something that you've deleted too is it?" John spoke with a disbelieving tone, his mouth gaping open. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Of course, John. It means that she does not speak. I'm not stupid."

"No, I know you're not." Muttered John quietly. Sherlock heard and let himself smile softly, turning away from his friend in the process.

"When are they getting here then? I assume that they are being brought here else you would have made the situation known more urgently."

"Lestrade said any moment now. So please, go and get all your stuff cleaned up. I'm pretty sure they don't want have to walk into a kitchen filled with test tubes. Especially if we're offering beverages from it."

* * *

20 minutes later with a relatively tidy kitchen (or at least one without an experiment occurring in it) Sherlock was sat by the window. His chin was resting firmly on his violin and he pulled the bow across the strings gently. John's phone had stopped buzzing and he had taken to typing up the latest solved case on his blog. Awfully aware that his flatmate was judging everything that he was writing over his shoulder he was almost hoping that Lestrade would get here sooner.

Finally, his prayers were answered and Mrs Hudson came up the stairs. She knocked once before walking in quickly.

"Yoo hoo! You've got visitors!" The old woman smiled cheerily, letting Detective Inspector Lestrade and his witness pass her in the doorway before waving to her boys. John raised his hand in greeting to her before she disappeared with a chuckle down the stairs. Sherlock continued to stare at the blog before glancing to the window as John closed the laptop lid. He ran the bow across the strings violently once before putting the violin away in its case and back into its usual spot.

"Afternoon, Detective." Greeted John as he walked over to shake Lestrade's hand. Both Sherlock and John's gaze shifted to the female stood by his side. The girl must have been about 17 years of age, she wore plain jeans and a black T-Shirt sporting a cartooned version of Captain America's shield on the chest. Her hair was short and blonde, the fringe covering part of her eyes and she obviously used it to hide behind. She clutched a notebook to her chest which Sherlock immediately recognised was not for story writing purposes but purely for communication. Chances were that she may write herself little notes in the back but they couldn't have been private or personal because the possibility of people taking the book to read were high.

"Good afternoon, John." Lestrade smiled and took the hand to shake before turning to Sherlock and addressing the man equally. "Hello, Sherlock."

"Hmm." Replied Sherlock as he made his way over to the congregation at the edge of the living room. He came to a halt in front of the witness and let his eyes flick over her at a closer range. She frowned up at him, her lips pressing into a thin line as she leaned backwards a little.

"Sherlock..." Warned John under his breath, taking a small part of his friend's suit and pulling him back a few steps. John then took this time to greet the female himself.

"Hello there, I'm Dr John Watson." He smiled, holding his hand out for her to shake. She shifted her notebook into one arm and shook John's hand with confidence and a small smile. Peeling back the front cover of her notebook she presented John with the front page. It read out clearly:

_My name is Ashley._

"It's nice to meet you, Ashley." Continued John and Lestrade wandered from her side to talk to Sherlock. He pulled him to one side and began to explain the elements of the case that had been discovered since their last meeting together. Sherlock nodded along to whatever it was the man was saying and John was left to keep their guest entertained.

"Would you like a drink?" He asked Ashley kindly. She mused for a moment before issuing a simple nod to him. John walked over to the almost tidy kitchen and pulled out a clean glass. "Er, what would you like?"

The girl pulled out her notebook and a pen from its spine before writing: _Just water will be fine._

John nodded and filled the glass with water from the tap and handed it to her. She sipped it contentedly, her elbow leaning on one of the clean kitchen counters. Ashley's eyes flicked around the room and she smiled. The abandoned experiment from last week that Sherlock had still managed to bypass while doing his version of cleaning appeared to amuse her. She placed the glass down and went to look at it. Bending eye level she blew away the dust from a conical flask and raised an eyebrow in interest as the now stagnant liquid inside rippled from her breath.

"Do you find that interesting?" Asked John with the tilt of his head. Ashley shrugged and straightened up. Her head turned quickly as Lestrade poked his head into the room. He smiled kindly at the two of them.

"Okay, we're ready if you are."

Ashley nodded at the Detective. She gestured to her drink and then into the living room before looking to John. It took him only a moment to realise what she was asking.

"Oh, yes! You can bring that in there." He nodded and she smiled, picking up the glass and her notebook once more before following Lestrade back to the living room. John turned the light off before following. As he emerged he saw Sherlock sitting up straight in his arm-chair, gesturing or Lestrade and Ashley to take a seat opposite him. John allowed himself to perch on the arm of Sherlock's chair. He wanted to be close to him. Close enough so that he could pinch him if he was being to harsh to the girl.

Once they had all settled down Sherlock inhaled sharply. Ashley looked relaxed enough. She had her notebook resting on her lap, the only sign of nervousness was her incessant pen chewing. The lid of that pen was becoming more and more mangled as she nibbled and bit at it. As if becoming aware of what she was doing she quickly removed it from her mouth and placed it on to the notebook.

"Alright then. Might as well get straight to the point. Where were you when you saw the murderer?" Asked Sherlock as he placed his hands at a steeple under his chin. He waited for her to quickly scrawl: _Walking home from school._

He nodded before asking another question.

"What time was it when you saw them?"

_4:15 pm. _She wrote again. Sherlock quickly decided whether the times of the murders could link up with that timing in way. After coming to the swift conclusion that they could he nodded.

"What were they doing?" He asked once more. John could see him straining to keep his questions short and simple for the girl's sake. of course, this was the only way to get a quick answer from her. Those were the types of answers that Sherlock liked. The ones that could keep him focused on the task at hand. Oh how he wanted to go deeper in this analysis and find a way of getting to the details.

_They were walking into the house._ Ashley wrote out and Sherlock groaned. He ruffled his hair with his hands and offered a glare at Lestrade.

"Come on! Can you not tell me more than that? Details! I need details!" Sherlock snapped, his voice was raised no matter how much he was trying to hide his annoyance. The girl frowned slightly before writing _Details like what?_

"Gender, age, where they carrying anything? What were they wearing?" Sherlock rambled and John tapped his shoulder. When the man turned he gave him a stern look. Sherlock frowned turning away and now looking towards Lestrade who was bearing the same look. Sherlock sighed and picked at his thumb for just a moment in frustration. By the time he had finished looked around Ashley had written out a response for him.

_She was female. In her 20's. She was carrying a black handbag but I couldn't see what was in it. She was wearing high heels and black tights. She looked like a business woman._

This time she handed the notebook to Sherlock to read, there was too much of it to read while she held it up and so Sherlock took it on to his lap. He nodded as he read it and handed it back to her long before John had finished reading. John raised an eyebrow and rolled his eyes as the book was taken out from under his nose and he shook his head in exasperation. The girl leaned back and took a sip of her drink while Sherlock formulated his next question. During the moment of silence Lestrade placed a hand on the girl's knee. She turned to face him and he gave her the smile of "Are you okay?" She nodded in his direction and smiled back.

He worried too much was the girl's thoughts but he was kind and so she could forgive him. The John character seemed to be kind too but she was not so sure on Sherlock. Perhaps he meant well but he was certainly rather blunt.

"Was anything different about her when she left? Assuming you saw her leave as well." Sherlock asked suddenly. The girl did not hesitate before starting to write. It took longer this time. So much longer. Aggravatingly longer. Sherlock began to get bored. He bit his lip and drummed his fingers across the arm of the chair. He leaned back and stared up at his flatmate. John gave him another look. The two were beginning communicate rather well through facial expressions nowadays. A simple raise of the eyebrow or twitch of a lip was enough for Sherlock to convey his annoyance or frustration. However, likewise, it would be enough for John to be able to tell Sherlock to shut up in sensitive situations.

"John..." Sherlock whined in a grumble. John coughed lightly and nudged his shoulder with a shake of his head.

"Don't, Sherlock" He warned.

"But this is taking so much longer than it should. Can't we get her to speak?" He asked. Quite an insensitive question to ask as John thought.

"She _can't _speak, Sherlock." John reminded Sherlock quietly. The two had not been aware that Ashley had stopped writing and was now looking at them. Her arm outstretched to pass the notebook back over. She blinked at the two of the silently.

_I did see her leave. I was at home by then but I was watching out the window. I live opposite the Denners you see. The Denners are the family that had their son murdered, but you probably already knew that. Anyway, when she left she was rushing. She wasn't as calm as when she walked in. Something fell out of the top of her bag and landed in a bush. I don't know what it was but I don't think she needed it. She checked her watch once and then started to run until she got to the end of the street. Then she turned left towards Victoria station and I didn't see her after that but she definitely seemed to be in a rush._

Sherlock allowed John to finish reading this time before handing the book back. That was something John hadn't expected but it was a nice change. Sherlock nodded and clapped his hands to his thighs before standing and opening his mouth.

"Well! I think that's all I need for now. I'm pretty sure I have a conclusion if you would like to follow me Detective?" Sherlock lead Lestrade into the kitchen, leaving John once more to entertain Ashley. As the two men walked Ashley sank backwards into her seat. She released a large breath of air that she must have held in for the last part of that interview through nerves. Running the pen lid back and forth the covering of her notebook she appeared to be in a mind of her own before remembering that John was still sat opposite her. She then wrote something for him.

_Is he your friend?_

John smiled quickly at this and nodded.

"Sherlock? Yes, he is. I owe him quite a bit in fact. What did you think to him?" He asked, tilting his head.

_He was okay. A bit impatient though. I think I could get used to him._

John chuckled and nodded, "Yes, he does tend to get a bit impatient. He doesn't always understand personal reasons for actions either. Much like your lack of voice." John started treading carefully. He scanned Ashley's face for any signs that he should stop speaking. He didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable yet of course, he could not stop feeling curious. It was only a natural reaction he told himself. Ashley didn't seem to be affected by this choice of conversation and so he continued wearily. "Why do you not speak exactly?" He bit his lip and tilted his head a little.

_I don't speak because I can't. My vocal cords did not develop properly before I was born. That is the simple way to describe it. I don't mind though. I've always gotten around like this. I know sign language and that's how I communicate with my family. If I got to a place where nobody knows sign language then I bring this notebook._

It took her a while to write it all but once she was done John read it over and nodded along. He smiled at her kindly and she smiled back.

"I see. That is rather amazing." Said John as Lestrade and Sherlock re-entered the room. He stretched up his arms behind his head, groaned once and then relaxed.

"Are you ready to go Ashley?" He asked, walking towards the door. She nodded and finished her drink quickly. She was quick to make sure she had her notebook and pen before waving to John with a bright smile and nodding her goodbye to Sherlock who responded in the same way. Ducking out the door they heard her footsteps down the stairs. "Bye guys." Lestrade said before following her.

* * *

The two men were sat with the curtains drawn and the soft orange light of the lamp glowing across the room. Sherlock was watching the "crap telly" while John had finished his blog post of the day's interview. During this time he became aware that he did not know the outcome of the case.

"Sherlock," Began John slowly, "What exactly happened to the two children? I forgot to ask."

"Obvious. The woman poisoned the two children. It was probably arsenic. She gave the first child a smaller dosage than the second. It was enough to kill him still but also enough to hold off until she could get across London and to the second child. That second child was given such a high dosage that it killed her instantly and by that time the first child would also have just died. Lestrade is now looking for a business-like woman who was using the tube between 4:15 and 5:25 and will be arresting her shortly."

John nodded quickly, "I see. That's very clever."

"Indeed, it was quite interesting to work out." Sherlock added, his eyes had not left the TV during the conversation.

"And... what did you think of Ashley? The eye-witness." John asked dubiously.

"Annoyingly slow." Responded Sherlock without missing a heartbeat.

"Of course. Of course she was. I thought she was pretty amazing. She's never been able to speak, Sherlock. Her vocal cords didn't develop when she was born. She's been through 17 years of her life like that." Mused John, he rambled on a little and Sherlock had stopped paying attention to be him about half way through.

"Hmmmm.." He replied.

Sherlock may not have been impressed with the girl but she had certainly made an impression on John. He thought about it quite a bit that night. Taking his thoughts with him to bed. He pondered on what it would have been like for him had he not been able to talk. Would he have joined the army? Would he have been _allowed _to? If he hadn't have joined the army and later been shot would he have met Sherlock? Or would he have met him only to be discarded as annoyingly slow as Sherlock had discarded Ashley.

He bit his lip as he now laid on his back in the darkness of his bedroom. Maybe Sherlock would have taken the time to learn sign language so they could communicate. All these thoughts swarmed his brain as he drifted off to sleep. Yes, that girl had certainly made an impression on him.


End file.
